


fragile as a leaf in autumn

by TwoMenAndAGuava (drakkynfyre47)



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 09:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11666610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakkynfyre47/pseuds/TwoMenAndAGuava





	fragile as a leaf in autumn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jougetsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/gifts).



Bar fights have never been Lando’s thing. Sure, it’s fun to run verbal circles around dumb thugs, but he always knows when to stop, when they’re ready to take a swing at him.

Han’s not so lucky.

Lando takes a deep breath and wades into the fight, planting a well-placed elbow directly into the left eye of one unlucky Rodian. “Solo!” he yells, as he watches Han go down under three very angry individuals of indistinct gender.

“I’m trying!” Han yells back, and honestly it’s kind of funny, the way his legs (the only part of him Lando can see) are kicking frantically like he’s treading water. But Lando doesn’t have time to laugh; there’s a crowd gathering to watch the fight and if he’s going to slip out unnoticed he’s got to do it now.

He doesn’t. He stays and watches, watches the bouncers drag the combatants away from each other, watches Han cradle a bleeding hand against his chest. There’s blood dripping from Han’s nose - it looks broken, even from this distance. Lando wants to wipe the blood away, half because it’s staining Han’s clothes, and half because it’s obscuring his pretty mouth.

As if reading Lando’s thoughts, Han looks up and grins, and Lando can’t help but smile back.

-

Lando doesn’t end up helping Han clean up. Instead he talks his way out of expenses incurred, and soothes ruffled feathers with expensive wine and good food.

Han emerges from the refresher, wrapped in a fluffy pale yellow towel slung low about his hips, and Lando’s eyes trace the lines of his chest and stomach. “You want to explain what that was all about?” he asks. 

“Nah,” Han says casually. “We just had a little disagreement. They started it.”

“I don’t care who started it,” Lando says, feeling bizarrely like a parent, even though he and Han are equal partners. “I just care that -” _That you’re okay,_ he thinks, but stops himself before he says it. “I just care that you didn’t risk the operation.”

“Of course not,” Han says, sounding offended. “I would never do that. Besides, I wasn’t as drunk as they thought I was, which gave me the advantage.”

Lando takes in the swelling black eye, the split lip, the bruises on Han’s ribs, the splint on his right middle finger, and makes a soft sound of derision. “If that was an advantage, I’d hate to see a fair fight,” he quips.

Han frowns, brow furrowing. “Come on, Lando. Gimme some credit.”

“What for?” Lando asks, enjoying this far too much.

“Fine,” Han says, “fine,” and takes a step into Lando’s space. “They were asking me about you, okay?”

Lando puts a hand on Han’s shoulder. “Deep breaths, Han. What were they asking?” His mind is already racing, how to pull up roots and get a move on as fast as possible.

“If, um,” and Han’s fidgeting a little now, which has Lando even more worried, “if you were single.”

Lando stops cold. “Oh, Han,” he says, trying not to laugh. “Han, you beautiful fool, that was the code for the drop-off.”

Slowly, Han’s face starts to turn red, the flush spreading across his cheeks. “I, uh, I’m sorry, Lando.”

He gives in to the urge to tilt his head back and let out a deep, genuine laugh. “It could have been so much worse,” he says. “I’ll go there, I’ll fix it, we can deal with it.”

Han’s shoulders slump. “Sorry, Lando,” he repeats.

“It’s okay, Han. It’s fixable,” Lando reassures him. As he turns away to get his shoes on, he realizes something. “Oh, and Han?”

“Yeah?” 

Lando hesitates for a moment, unsure if he was misreading the signals. “You were quick to jump to defend me,” he says, hedging a little. “Any reason you felt like a bar fight was appropriate for someone asking if your friend is single?” He leans on “friend” a little, watching Han squirm.

“I. I’m, um,” Han says, turning even brighter red. 

Lando’s glad he’s dark enough to not show his own blush as he realizes his suspicions are correct. “You don’t want to be just friends, do you,” he says as gently as he can.

“No,” Han admits, eyes downcast.

Lando takes a step forward, filling Han’s field of vision. “Neither do I,” he says, voice low. “What do you say to being partners in more than just crime?”

It’s Han’s turn to laugh, a deep throaty chuckle that turns into shoulders shaking and face buried in his hands. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He reaches up, cups Lando’s jaw, and leans in.

Lando lets his eyes flutter closed, leans in halfway to meet Han in the middle, and their lips meet in a soft, sweet kiss.

Han’s eyes are closed too, when they pull away. Lando smiles, leans in again, letting his hands wander. His fingers tangle in Han’s brown hair, pulling him close and leaning into the kiss. Han reciprocates, hands on Lando’s hips, and they press closer together.

“This is nice,” Han says, resting his forehead against Lando’s. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Probably because you were too busy getting beaten up,” Lando points out. “Or screwing over our clients because you forgot the signals. Or -”

Han cuts him off with another kiss. “Oh, like you’ve never kriffed up a deal before,” he taunts. “Remember what you said about Dantooine?”

“Doesn’t count,” Lando says between kisses. “That was before you joined up.”

“Of course it counts,” Han retorts. “If you don’t cut me slack, I don’t cut you slack.” He shifts his hips suggestively. “Now, do you want to do this properly or not?”

“Hang on,” Lando says, “remember how this got started?” He presses against one of the bruises on Han’s side, getting a yelp in response. “First things first. I’ve got to go close this deal, and you’ve got to put some clothes on and apologize.”

Han whines, “Does it have to be now?”

Lando grins, stealing another kiss. “Yes, Han. Now.” 

Reluctantly Han lets go, and not-so-unintentionally drops the towel. “You promise you’ll come right back?”

“Promise,” Lando says.


End file.
